


till i drown in your hands

by snsk



Series: phan week [4]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Masturbation, NSFW, Phan Week, porn! without! plot!, power couple phan, sexual drunk dan, tatinof afterparty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snsk/pseuds/snsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>day four: mutual masturbation</p><p>(Dan follows him in, says, "Listen, you don't have to suck me off, just - just your fingers, or your - your leg to hump on, god, Phil, fuck. Anything you give me, I just <em>want-"</em>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	till i drown in your hands

Phil is mildly exaggerating the hit-my-head-on-a-pixel story to Niki and Linda, who are tipsy enough that they're giggling at it with what appears to be genuine amusement, when he happens to snag on Dan's gaze from across the room.

Dan, who's talking to Louise but looking right at him.

Dan, who's got a Phil in his hand, but is staring at Phil like he's _much_ thirstier for the real thing.

Phil kind of _has_ to look away at this point, for his own sanity, because he _knows_ what Dan is thinking. Knows what Dan wants. Flustered, he turns back to his audience, says, "anyway, sorry - what was I saying?"

"You were seeing stars," Linda supplies helpfully.

"I was seeing stars," Phil says gratefully. "I have no idea how I managed to get through the rest of it, I'm sure I was suffering a slight concussion."

"He's not exaggerating," Dan says, from - for goodness' sake, from where he's appeared right at Phil's side. "He looked very dazed. I was half-expecting him to fall over at some point."

"But the show must go on," Phil sighs.

"That it must," Niki agrees, laughing. Phil isn't sure whether it's from the story or the cocktail, but he'll take it.

"A real trooper, our Phil," Dan says. "Speaking of, could I steal him away for just one moment?"

Niki and Linda salute them with their drinks, and Dan smiles and leads Phil away by the elbow.

"I'm not going to blow you in the toilets," Phil informs him, which is somewhat undermined by the fact that he's following Dan across the room to the toilets.

"But here's why you should," Dan says, "because you're my boyfriend, and you love me, and this is our party, and we can do what we want."

"That's not how it works," Phil hisses.

"Please, Phil," Dan murmurs, close, maddeningly close. "Pretty, pretty please?"

"Everyone will know!" Phil says. "I'll have blowjob face. You know I'll have blowjob face!"

He will, in fact, have blowjob face; he really, really likes sucking Dan off, loves choking on it, and it always ends up with his eyes glassy and lips puffed up, cheeks incriminatingly flushed because of his ridiculously translucent skin. He's seen himself enough times in the mirror to recognise blowjob face. But he's seriously considering it, for fuck's sake, because of the way his boyfriend is wheedling into his ear, low and pleading: his lips brushing the shell of it, making Phil's nerve endings light up like they're on fire.

God.

And then they're waylaid by Wirrow and PJ, who want pictures.

"Sure," Phil says firmly, when Dan opens his mouth to answer.

Dan spends the entire time in the photobooth with his hand on the small of Phil's back, underneath his shirt. His palm is warm and feels like a brand to Phil's skin, and the bastard knows it, too. Phil can't twist away because it's cramped in the photobooth, and he really really hates Dan Howell, and he hates him even more because at this point he'd say yes to anything he asked.

"Just gonna-" Phil says when they're done, jerking a thumb in the direction of the toilets. He's aware that he's already flushed, aware that Dan's looking at him like he wants to spread that flush further, all the way down Phil's body.

"Yeah, yeah," Wirrow says, grinning. "You're like rabbits in heat."

"Do rabbits go into heat?" PJ asks.

Phil doesn't hear the answer; he's already pushing the male-marked door open. Dan follows him in, says, "Listen, you don't have to suck me off, just - just your fingers, or your - your leg to hump on, god, Phil, fuck. Anything you give me, I just _want-"_

Phil's managed to herd him into a cubicle and lock the door, so he shuts him up by kissing him.

Dan's always so _loud_ when he's drunk; boisterous and giggling in public, moaning and filthy-mouthed during sex. Now, he whines against Phil's mouth, crowds him against the wall; groans as his dick presses up against Phil's, even with two layers in between. His hips jerk. His fingers are in Phil's hair.

Phil breaks away, tells him: "We're going to come in our pants."

"I don't care," Dan says, chasing his mouth. Phil says "Dan!" disapprovingly, so Dan sighs, very put-upon, and starts on his neck. Phil is almost fully convinced he has a vampire kink. About 93.2 percent sure. It's always _biting_ involved when he's concerned.

"We have a flight tomorrow," Phil says, "and interviews, and a signing - Dan. I didn't pack a scarf." Dan grumbles under his breath, reduces his attack to soft laps over the teeth marks with his tongue. He pushes Phil's collar back, starts kissing his shoulder.

"C'mon," Phil says, tipping his head back, half-laughing. God, his boyfriend. His ridiculous drunkenly sexual boyfriend he's just finished up a successful UK tour with. Is escaping a wrap party in their honour with. "C'mon. I'll do you if you'll do me." He tugs amusedly at Dan's hair. "Okay?"

"Okay," Dan says, so quickly Phil's not even sure he heard what he's agreeing to, "I said anything." He's yanking frustratedly at Phil's belt before he finishes talking, and Phil gently knocks his hands aside to work it himself. Then their pants are down and Dan's long, eager fingers are wrapping around the both of them, and Phil huffs, breathlessly amused, uses his own hand to slow him down.

"Phil," Dan says, something dangerously close to begging when Phil drags both their hands slowly, achingly down, _"Phil,"_ and Phil says, fond, "Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart. I got you," and tightens his grip - _their_ grip on the upstroke.

Dan whines again, high at the back of his throat. Phil catches the sound in his mouth, kisses him all sloppy, loves how Dan makes gasping little noises and kisses him desperately back. Their hands move in tandem and Phil's in control, because Dan gives it up for him, so easily, always.

Still, Dan is Dan, so: "More," he demands, "faster," and Phil smiles against his kiss, says "alright," and "okay," because he will probably always say yes to anything Dan Howell asks. He moves their hands faster, moves their hands rougher, gives Dan permission.

"Fuck," Dan says, almost a sob, and comes.

 

Later, when they've cleaned themselves up with paper towels and splashed cold water onto their faces and patted back their hair as best they can, after Dan kisses Phil hard as a thank you he'll never say out loud, they go back outside. Dan heads in Felix's direction immediately, and Phil just hangs about for a bit, just soaking it all in. The bestselling book. The sold-out tour. The people who came from all over the country just for them. The party in celebration of their success. 

The love of his life.

Phil bites his lip, stifles a grin at his own cheesiness. In his head, Dan mocks him, the cadence of his voice as familiar to Phil as Phil's own. As if via mental link, Dan looks up at him from across the room. His eyes crinkle. 

Phil grins back. He heads over to join his friends at the bar.

**Author's Note:**

> Im on tumblr. this was written for phanweek on twitter on tumblr. tell me what u think of my rusty porn writing abilities below. hee hee


End file.
